


one night in gotham

by CapnWinghead



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), World's Finest (Comics)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:54:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26258995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapnWinghead/pseuds/CapnWinghead
Summary: Clark flies Bruce back to Gotham one night and everything changes.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 16
Kudos: 206





	one night in gotham

**Author's Note:**

> Quick piece based on issue #285 of World's Finest. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Bruce had been uncharacteristically quiet tonight.

Sure, he’d never been what Clark would call a chatterbox, but he usually made a comment or two when Clark flew him home. On this night, Clark had chosen to slow the journey. Chosen to fly at a leisurely pace rather than at super speed. The night air felt wonderful on his skin, cool and refreshing, the clouds sparse enough to make out the starry night sky. It was a beautiful night, but Clark only had eyes for Bruce.

“Are you alright?” Bruce startled out of his thoughts, looking to Clark briefly.

“Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”

“Well, you’ve been rather quiet tonight. Something wrong? You weren’t hurt back there, were you?”

The corner of Bruce’s mouth quirked before he shook his head. “No, Clark. I’m fine.” A pause, “You know, I appreciate you taking the scenic route to drop me off in Gotham. It would have been faster to wrap me in your cap and travel at super speed.”

“To miss all this would be a shame,” Clark explained with a nervous smile. “I feel we deserve a little slower pace after defeating a powerful enemy like Amalgamax.”

“Maybe so. I’m afraid sometimes if I slow down, something behind me might… catch up with me. All my life I’ve pushed, driven, denied myself anything that didn’t directly apply to the goals I set for myself.” Blue eyes glittered behind the cowl, the sight leaving Clark breathless, his hands tightening reflexively around Bruce’s waist. “Times like this make me see a glimmer of what I may have missed.”

Time seemed to slow, the rest of the world falling away as Clark held Bruce’s gaze and tried to calm the quick beating of his heart. Close enough, Clark could just make out the sound of Bruce’s heart – calm and steady as ever. Was this the moment Clark had been waiting for?

Was he reading something out of nothing?

Clearing his throat, he focused on getting Bruce home, holding him closer as he flew.

When they landed on the manor’s grounds, Bruce led Clark to the entrance of the cave. Clark touched the cool walls, smiling as he remembered the first time he’d set foot inside Bruce’s inner sanctum. How naïve he’d been then not to realize just how much of an honor he’d been afforded. A very small number of people had made it into Bruce’s circle of trust and even smaller had been chosen.

Clark stood in the mouth of the cave as Bruce settled in. The cowl came off, along with his boots and utility belt. The cave came next, hanging on a hook near the computer. This was usually the point where Bruce bid Clark farewell and settled in to update his case files. He’d sit at the computer and run a hand through his hair, blue eyes keen and focused on his work. The mission was never quite over until Bruce had noted everything, down to the last detail. Then, he’d make his way upstairs to rest. At least, Clark assumed. He’d never seen that part.

Now, he waits, heart pounding as he waited for Bruce’s quiet “goodnight”.

Bruce’s hands pulled at the top of his suit, lifting it over his head. Breath catching, Clark watched as piercing blue eyes landing on his, holding them as he set the top aside and strode closer, bare feet padding softly on the cave floor. He came to a stop in front of Clark, assessing him quietly. Swallowing, Clark mustered the courage to let his eyes fall to Bruce’s chest.

Broad and muscular, Bruce resonated power and strength. His abs tensing with every inhale, brown skin marred only by scars and light bruising from their recent fight. Clark’s hands were drawn to him, a nervous flutter running through him as he reached out, fingers halting a hairs breadth from the slightly raised skin over his left pec. A thin, white jagged scar. Clark’s eyes rose to Bruce, a beat before he nodded and Clark’s traced the edge of it.

“Serrated blade,” Bruce murmured. “Got that my first year out.”

Clark nodded, sliding his fingers over warm skin to a flat, triangular spot of discolored skin above Bruce’s navel. Bruce’s stomach tensed, breath quieting. “This one?” Clark whispered.

“Burn. Got it pulling out the Penguin’s men after a nightclub fire.”

Clark stepped in closer, stretching out his palm to cover a bruise over Bruce’s ribs. “Does it hurt?”

He looked to Bruce, eyes widening at the intense focus he found there. Eyes hooded, lips plush and red as he dipped his tongue out to wet them. Studying Clark as if he was plotting his way through a strategy, the perfect way to take him down. Drawn forward, Clark’s gaze fell to his lips once more, heat coiling in his stomach. He wanted to taste them, to claim them. Burning in the face of that intensity as he fought the urge to let go of his fragile control and just take what he wanted. 

To push Bruce into the nearest flat surface, tear the rest of his suit to shreds and run his hands over his body. To seek out and trace every one of Bruce’s scars – to commit them to memory, to know them by touch alone. To breathe in Bruce’s scent, to spread him out and take him apart. To bury himself inside and make a place for himself there.

His hands curled into a fist, starting to pull away when Bruce’s hand closed around his wrist. Clark met Bruce’s gaze hesitantly, heart pounding. Bruce took in his face, hand tightening around Clark’s wrist. Then he leaned forward, a guarded look in his eye.

Clark’s eyes fell closed moments before their lips touched. It was soft at first, growing firmer as Clark slowly let himself enjoy it. Bruce’s lips on his, his thumb tracing the inside of his wrist as he kept Clark close. His tongue traced the seam of Clark’s lips, earning a soft gasp before it dipped inside. Warming, Clark reached up to touch Bruce’s face with his free hand, stroking Bruce’s chest as he did. His thumb brushed a hardened bud, earning a quiet intake of breath.

Pulling back in surprise, Clark found Bruce’s cheeks flushed, eyes dark, his lips bruised. Shifting, Clark felt a hardness pressed to his hip. Stomach tightening, Clark started to pull Bruce in again, body flush with arousal. Bruce stepped back, his voice rough, “Not here.”

Following Bruce up the stairs in the quiet of the manor felt a bit like that time Lana Lang had snuck Clark into her bedroom in Smallville. Who they were hiding from, Clark wasn’t quite sure. Dick? Alfred? Either way, he kept his footsteps light as Bruce led the way to his bedroom. Clark had rarely been up here. The few times he had, Bruce had been injured and unconscious.

Bruce closed the door behind them as Clark took in the room. The dark shadows and heavy drapes over the windows. The large king size bed in the center seemed to be the focus point. All at once, that nervousness returned and Clark looked to Bruce in question.

He stood in front of Clark, voice soft. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Clark nodded; of course, he knew that. This wasn’t fear of Bruce – it was fear of his own desire.

Clark wanted this. He’d wanted it for a long time. At times, he wondered if he’d wanted this from the start. When they’d met on that cruise ship and Bruce had been so forceful and commanding. So sure of himself and what he was doing. That easy confidence and strength, not to mention he was the most attractive man Clark had ever seen. Clark had been powerless at the start of this and now, he felt like he was right back there: standing in front of Bruce breathless and waiting for guidance.

The corner of Bruce’s mouth quirked, his face softening. Clark hadn’t realized he was nervous, too. He reached out, his hand flat on Clark’s chest. “It’s okay If you want this, Clark.” Shivering, Clark stood still as Bruce’s hand slid up, his fingers dipping under the collar of his suit. “It’s just me.”

Clark swallowed, heart beating faster as Bruce started to unfasten his cape. He helped pull the top down, breath quickening as Bruce took in his bare skin. This wasn’t the first time Bruce had seen him shirtless, their jobs made that a semi regular occurrence. It was the first time he’d been shirtless in Bruce’s bedroom as the man undressed him.

Nosing in, Bruce softly pressed his lips to Clark’s throat, earning a quiet moan. His hand flattened out over Clark’s chest as his fingers dipped lower, sliding past his stomach. The first brush of his fingers over Clark’s cock drew a gasp and an aborted buck of his hips.

“You like that?” he breathed, wrapping his fingers around Clark’s length, stroking him tightly. It was a tight fit, the suit making it difficult to do more than a few slow strokes. Bruce tugged the suit lower, giving himself more room to work.

As his hand quickened, Clark leaned back against the door, eye falling shut. “I can take it off,” he panted, pushing into Bruce’s hand.

“I like it,” Bruce murmured, nipping at Clark’s neck.

Warming, Clark quickly lost himself in the feel of Bruce’s hand around him. Even in this, he was incredibly skilled. His hands large, his grip tight as he worked Clark’s cock and left him weak in the knees, leaning heavily into the door for balance. Moaning, Clark shivered and pushed into his grip, precome dripping from the head, slick and messy.

“Thought about this before,” Bruce murmured, his breath misting hotly over Clark’s throat. His lips travelled lower, “So strong and powerful.” His ducked down, falling to his knees, “Bringing you down with nothing more than my hands,” his breathed wetly over the swollen head of Clark’s cock, “my mouth.”

Clark opened his eyes just in time to watch as Bruce took him into his mouth, his lips stretched around the length. Shivering, he held still as Bruce’s eyes fell shut, a soft suck as he slowly took more of Clark inside. “Bruce,” he panted, fingers sliding into dark curls as he fought the urge to push into that tight heat.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away, the focused furrow of Bruce’s brow, the hollows of his cheeks as he pulled off and traced the veins of Clark’s cock with his tongue. Lapping at the head, lashes fluttering over his cheeks as he worked, stroking Clark’s length skillfully. This would be over embarrassingly fast. Clark’s breath quickened, his heart beating faster as Bruce took him into his mouth once more and his eyes shot up to meet Clark’s.

Clark’s cock pulsed, his breath catching as he spilled over Bruce’s tongue. Shuddering, his fingers tightening in Bruce’s hair as he pushed in deeper and filled his mouth. Apologies spilled from his lips, stomach tightening with every wave of pleasure. Even as Bruce swallowed him down and pet his stomach encouragingly.

When he pulled off, Clark pulled him close, panting into his mouth as he tugged down Bruce’s pants. Hard and wet, Bruce thrust into his grip as he worked him quickly.

“Christ,” Bruce panted, a whine escaping as he fell into Clark and let him take his weight.

Adjusting seamlessly, Clark took him against his chest, holding him close as he stroked his cock and brought him off in mere seconds. Shaking, Bruce nosed into Clark’s throat as he milked his release, loosening his grip. He stroked Bruce’s back, murmuring softly into his skin as he gathered his wits about him. Finally, he calmed, breathing in Bruce’s scent.

Bruce stepped back, stepping out of his pants. He reached for Clark’s, waiting for him to step out of them. As he padded across the floor, Clark noted, with some regret, that he’d torn Bruce’s pants to shreds. Bruce pulled the covers back from the bed and slid underneath, waiting for Clark to follow suit.

“You’ve been quiet all day,” Clark whispered, drawing Bruce in again. “Something on your mind?”

Bruce’s eyes fell shut, his hand covering Clark’s on the cool sheets. “Just this.” He pulled one up and kissed the inside of Clark’s palm. 

  
  



End file.
